That's All
by Wldwmn
Summary: A chilly night outside means a warm night inside. Jisbon, post-RJ. Inspired by a song, but not exactly a song-fic. Unchecked sappiness ahead; avoid if that's not your preference.


**Disclaimer: Are you kidding? Jane and Lisbon would've been married and starting on their 3****rd**** baby by now if they were mine!**

**Summary: A chilly night outside means a warm night inside. Jisbon, post-RJ. Inspired by a song, but not exactly a song-fic. Unchecked sappiness ahead; avoid if that's not your preference. **

**A/N: Just needed to write something simple and affectionate for J & L right now. No language, and any adult references are mild. The song "That's All" was written by Alan Brandt and Bob Haymes; lyrics appear in Italics.**

**That's All**

"_**I can only give you love that lasts forever,**_

_**And a promise to be near each time you call,**_

_**And the only heart I own, for you and you alone,**_

_**That's all."**_

"Are you warm enough?" Jane asked.

"Getting there," Lisbon answered with a nod at the renewed flames in the fireplace. "It'll be perfect soon."

Jane smiled and stood up. He began to move into another room, but stopped to watch Lisbon from the doorway. The firelight glowed in her eyes and on her skin, and he thought he could tell what she was thinking. But not because he could read minds. He knew because he was thinking the same thing.

So far their honeymoon had been a bit of a wash, and he'd be the first to admit it. He might not be the first to admit that some of it was his fault but well… old habits die hard.

The plane being delayed for 4 hours had not been his fault. He hadn't even made any jokes during the ridiculously overcomplicated security check they had to go through. Surely, a couple of newlyweds in their 40s presented little danger, right? But one solid glare from Lisbon and he'd bit his tongue.

In retrospect, the cabin rental for a November honeymoon might have been a poor choice on his part. They weren't so very far north, but the mountains bring their own weather, he knew that. And no central heating plus below-average temperatures equaled cold extremities for his blushing bride. But she'd loved the idea when he'd finally revealed it. So it couldn't be his **entire** fault, right?

The sky was always iron grey. Barely a peep of sunshine in the past four days, but Lisbon, bless her, hadn't complained. She smiled at the rustic air of the place, ran her fingers over wood smoothed by hands and time rather than machinery, and pulled him close over and over again.

He smiled a bit sheepishly to himself. That part of the honeymoon had been just perfect. Lisbon made him feel adored when she loved him, curling against him under cool sheets and cotton quilts that warmed quickly to their skin. He was finally able to sleep, **really** sleep, head pillowed on her chest and rocked gently by her calm, regular breathing. That part of the honeymoon couldn't be better. Not even his dreams (and oh yes, he'd had them) could compare.

He finally wandered into the kitchen, and poured them both a mug of hot chocolate. Tea was still his preference, and coffee hers, but they'd found that cocoa was a good compromise some of the time. He carefully padded back to the living room and set the mug down beside her.

###

"_**I can only give you country walks in springtime**_

_**And a hand to hold when leaves begin to fall;**_

_**And a love whose burning light**_

_**Will warm the winter's night**_

_**That's all."**_

Lisbon came out of her daze at the sound of the ceramic mug being set by her knees. She looked up at Jane and gave him a crooked smile. "It's not the instant stuff, is it?" she asked, wrinkling her nose slightly. She always asked that. It never was.

He vehemently shook his head, playing along. "No, no, I know better than that. Homemade, all the way."

"Good," she said firmly, and blew on it gently before taking a sip. "Mmhm, just right."

He grinned, ever-so-pleased with himself, and she raised an eyebrow. That's all she had to do, these days.

Lisbon took another sip and watched Jane settling himself with his own mug. He looked older than he had even only a year ago, a few more lines of care and worry around his eyes. He'd taken to wearing glasses often now, too, rather than his contacts. That also added age to his appearance.

But he moved like a man who'd carried a heavy weight for years and had finally been relieved of it. And the brittle quality was gone from his chuckles; that peculiar **tightness** had vanished from his smiles. Patrick Jane no longer seemed like a man about to shatter any moment, so in her eyes he'd never looked better.

The fine details of their honeymoon had been a bit scrambled so far. After their quiet ceremony with just her priest officiating and the team in attendance, he'd whisked her away from work and the warmth of Sacramento. A honeymoon pre-arranged, he'd promised. "Trust me," he'd said.

And so she'd found herself here, in a mountain cabin with only a generator for electricity. An ancient refrigerator like she hadn't seen since she was a child and a wood burning stove both made her extremely suspicious. But now, truth be told, she couldn't remember a time she'd been happier.

Lisbon's eyes lost focus slightly. How Jane loved her, in the still and the darkness no city could ever have afforded them. How he'd cling to her each night and whisper everything she'd ever needed to hear. How he'd get breathless and needy and only accept her touch to soothe him. How he loved her… and oh, how she loved him back.

###

The cocoa long gone, she sat the mug gently down on the coaster he'd thoughtfully shoved her way. She appreciated that; she didn't want to mar the ancient coffee table any more than he did.

"Warmer now?" she heard him say, and nodded in response. He smiled again. "Good."

"Come here to me," she said suddenly. Jane complied almost instantly, setting his mug down and joining her on the couch. "Turn away from me and scoot down a bit," she directed.

"Why, you want to be the big spoon this time?" he asked teasingly, but was already switching position as she'd said.

"Oh shut up," she grumbled, and pulled him close against her. Her hands slid around and rested on his chest, and she leaned a cheek on his blonde curls. So soft. She'd never get over how soft they were. His back was against her chest, and her thighs snuggled around his hips as they situated themselves.

It took perhaps a minute for their breathing to sync, and little more than that for his hands to cover hers and their fingers to entwine. She clung to him very tightly for a moment, a shadow of the old fear and sorrow passing through her. But it was only a shadow.

He was quick to recognize her body language, though, and quick to comfort her. "It's all right, my love," he murmured. "Just gather me up in your dear arms."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" she asked softly, but the tender tone she used (and the gentle kisses to his neck that followed) took any sting from the words.

And there they sat the evening, safe and warm and loved. Happiness might still have felt a little strange to both of them, but they could already tell it was something they could get used to.

Together.

"_**If you're wondering what I'm asking in return, dear,**_

_**You'll be glad to know that my demands are small.**_

_**Say it's me that you'll adore,**_

_**For now and evermore**_

_**That's all,**_

_**That's all."**_

**The End**


End file.
